


Threadbare

by greenmage128



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Winter, mild dealing with PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 17:04:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3257630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenmage128/pseuds/greenmage128
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel's desire to build a snowman has unintended consequences for Gadreel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Threadbare

**Author's Note:**

> For the [SPN Rare OTP Fic-a-Month Challenge](http://otpfic-a-month.livejournal.com) for January. Theme: winter.

Gabriel lobbed a snowball at Crowley, who squawked in protest and pulled his coat tighter around him. "Aw, c'mon, cupcake. Live a little."

"I'm a demon, Gabriel. I don't do winter," Crowley said, glaring at the archangel.

It shouldn't have been amusing, because even as an angel Crowley's wrath was something to contend with, but Gadreel grinned all the same. To save both of them from ending up with singed wings, he nudged Gabriel's shoulder. "You said you wanted to build a snowman?"

"Sing it and you might get a maybe," Gabriel said with a smirk. "Otherwise, I'm going to continue my indiscriminate snowball assault."

Crowley sighed. "Just build the damn thing, or I'm setting the whole place ablaze."

"Though the bunker is fireproof, you have a point," Gadreel said and gave Gabriel a pointed look.

The archangel pouted but started gathering up snow. "Buzzkills, the both of you."

Their quasi-golem ended up with part of an orange safety cone for a nose, cement shards for eyes, and pieces of gravel for its mouth. Crowley made his contribution in the form of two sickly-looking branches that served as arms. The snow of its body was marred with dirt and grass and twigs. Looking at it, Gadreel wasn't sure they had made it correctly, but Gabriel seemed pleased with the result.

He circled around the snowman, hands clasped behind his back, and when he reached the front he paused, head tilting just so to the side. "It's missing something." Tapping his chin, Gabriel stared at the snowman a moment longer before shouting, "Ha!", and grabbing the scarf from around Gadreel's neck.

Gadreel shivered as the wind picked up, icy against his exposed skin. It was a trick of his mind; it had to be. Angels didn't feel cold, even ones whose Graces were as stretched thin and broken as Gadreel's. He tried to focus instead on Gabriel's enthusiasm instead to combat this odd illusion.

"That should do it, I think," the archangel said, stepping back to admire his handiwork. The deep purple, black, and gray scarf seemed to complement the muddied snow, not that Gadreel knew much about the human sense of aesthetics, but it satisfied his angelic one well enough.

"Not quite," Crowley said, and they both turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. He picked up a rock and pricked his finger on one of the jagged edges, letting the blood drip onto the snowman's eyes and down his face. "There. Now it's perfect."

Gabriel considered the addition, and Gadreel could see the grin forming at the corners of his mouth. "You always did have a sense of artistry, Crowles. Though it's gonna traumatize the neighborhood kids."

"Then it's good there isn't much of a neighborhood around here," Gadreel said, giving Gabriel and Crowley both a look.

The archangel shrugged it off. "We'll get the Winchesters good, if nothing else. That's always satisfying."

Crowley smirked up at Gadreel. "Remind me to set the surveillance cameras to record. I would hate to miss the looks on their faces."

He let them have that one; arguing against a prank on the Winchesters was a useless endeavor, Gadreel had found.

"All right, I say we go in for hot chocolate and cookies," Gabriel said. He looked at Crowley and smiled, thin and a little too sweet. "If you would be inclined to make some, cupcake."

The demon rolled his eyes. "We don't even eat. And can't you just use your trickster powers to conjure them into existence? I'm flattered, but you're being ridiculous, darling."

"It's the principle of the thing." Gabriel crossed his arms with a small huff. "Besides, you know handmade stuff is better. Tastes less like… molecules."

"Fine." Crowley shook his head and started towards the bunker entrance.

Gabriel followed after him, grinning wide in triumph, while Gadreel kept a reasonable distance, trying not to look like he was desperate to get back into the warmth of the bunker.

Once they were back inside, Crowley shed his overcoat and suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves, and as he turned to face Gadreel he was suddenly wearing a red apron that read "The Devil Cooks Prada". "Mind giving me a hand, love? I'm sure Moose and Squirrel put everything up on the top shelves, the tall bastards."

Gadreel nodded. "Of course."

"That's the spirit," Gabriel said, still grinning. He snapped off his own jacket, which Gadreel had never seen him do unless it was followed shortly by the rest of his clothes, and suddenly the younger angel was self-conscious of the sweatshirt and leather jacket he still wore. "I'll make the hot chocolate."

They set about their individual tasks, with Gadreel going back and forth between the cabinets, the refrigerator, and Crowley. It didn't take long for Gabriel to finish the hot chocolate, and he shoved a warm mug into Gadreel's hands before the other angel had an opportunity to ask.

"What do you think?" Gabriel asked, watching Gadreel take a sip with a quirked eyebrow.

The drink had scarcely touched his tongue when Gadreel tasted alcohol, and he had to stop himself from cringing. It wasn't the alcohol itself he objected to, just the surprise. However the liquid did help warm him from the inside, so he couldn't contest its presence.

"It's good," Gadreel said, belated, as he realized Gabriel expected an actual answer. "What alcohol is that?"

The archangel grinned, proud of more than just himself. "Irish cream. Guaranteed to make any hot chocolate one hundred percent better and less molecule-y."

Crowley glanced up from his mixing bowl, where he was folding chocolate chips into the dough. "Would you look at that, angel? You do have a sense of good taste."

"Just a sense. Can't get too sophisticated, otherwise what would you nag me about?" Gabriel leaned over and kissed Crowley on the cheek before breezing out of the kitchen, and a few minutes later the faint sounds of the television in the bunker's rec room could be heard.

One mug still sat on the counter, which Crowley left untouched while he finished up his cookie dough. He turned on the oven to preheat and then leaned against the counter. "Do you mind, love?" he asked, indicating to the mug.

As Gadreel handed off the cup to him, fingers brushing in a way that might have been intentional on both their parts, Crowley made a face. He hesitated a moment before setting the mug down and taking Gadreel's hand in his.

"What is it?" Gadreel asked, body tensed and half-ready to run.

The demon looked up at him, brow furrowed and the corners of his mouth turned down. "You're freezing."

He tried to pull away, but Crowley's grasp was firm. "I'm fine."

"Gadreel—"

There was a loud pop, and Gabriel reappeared in the kitchen. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Gadreel said, though his answer only brought a frown to Gabriel's face.

The archangel glanced at Crowley, a conversation passing between them in the split-second it took for their eyes to meet, and then he placed a hand on Gadreel's neck. The younger angel tried not to wince against the chilled touch, because Gabriel couldn't help it unless he was being conscious of his body temperature, but enough of his discomfort must have slipped through for the archangel to notice.

"Holy shit, Gad, you are _cold_. Did you decide to become a Cullen all of a sudden?" Gabriel asked, moving his hand up and across Gadreel's face, feather light traces of Grace accompanying each touch.

If both his hands weren't occupied, Gadreel might have fought off the examination, but Crowley made sure that wasn't possible. He sighed and gave in, letting the demon and archangel do what they would, even if there was nothing worth worrying over. They were far better negotiators than he, though what Gadreel lacked in their skill he could make up for in stubbornness when the mood struck him. He settled on, "I don't understand that reference."

Crowley took Gadreel's mug and set it on the counter next to his own, so he could intertwine their hands more effectively. His skin was much warmer than Gabriel's, though the archangel's Grace was a better balm than any physical transfer of body heat. "Best that you don't, darling. Trust me." He shook his head with a small sigh. "There's a deal I wish I hadn't made."

Gabriel shot him a look over his shoulder. "You know you're totally Team Jacob." He turned back to Gadreel. "C'mon, let's get you into bed. You'll warm up faster that way."

A pair of snaps cleaned the kitchen and brought them into their room. Gabriel started pulling off Gadreel's clothes, while Crowley turned down the covers on the bed. All of this, all this trouble, for _him_. Gadreel felt like a burden, a fledgling with a broken wing, and the thought made him uncomfortable.

"This isn't—"

The archangel interrupted him by yanking his shirt over his head. "Not another word, unless you want us to do this the hard way."

"You call this the easy way?" Crowley asked.

Gadreel's shirt flew across the room, missing the demon by at least a foot. Gabriel glared at both of them and snapped away all of their clothing. "Just get into bed."

The demon chuckled but did as he was told, tugging on Gadreel's arm to make him lay down in the middle of the bed. Crowley slid in behind him, and Gadreel felt fingers start to play at the base of wings, slowly working their way upwards through the threadbare feathers.

Gadreel leaned back into that touch with a sigh, and he could feel the chill starting to leave his vessel's bones, though he was still cold, which didn't seem possible.

"It's your Grace, Gad," Gabriel said as he laid down and pulled up the blankets. His arm hooked over Gadreel's hip, resting just beneath Crowley's, and he rested his forehead against the younger angel's chest. "I should've noticed before how thin it was, and I shouldn't have dragged you out there. I'm sorry."

He tried to shake his head to alleviate Gabriel's guilt, but his head and limbs felt heavy. Between the body heat both his partners were putting off and Crowley's fingers in his wings, it was difficult to even keep his eyes open. All Gadreel could manage was a slurred, "It's all right."

Gabriel just shook his head and curled in closer, their bodies touching almost from shoulder to knee now. His Grace reached out to Gadreel's, filling in the gaps and broken places. It wasn't healing, not exactly, but it made Gadreel feel… at peace. Home.

"Any way we can fix it?" Crowley's voice was soft, gentler than Gadreel had ever heard him.

"Just time. Time and rest," Gabriel said, idly intertwining their fingers that rested on Gadreel's abdomen. "Not that we'll get much rest here, not with Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum around."

Crowley chuckled, deep and rumbling between Gadreel's shoulder blades. "I'm sure we can find ways to keep them in check. The snowman's a good start."

"Don't anger them too much," Gadreel found himself mumbling despite his sleepiness. "They make worse enemies than housemates."

"Fine. But don't think I won't make judicious use of the classics," Gabriel said, and Gadreel felt him grin. "If I do it right, they won't suspect me at all and just end up pranking each other into oblivion."

Gadreel held them both tighter, smiling in a way that would've seemed to ridiculous to him in a more lucid state. "Perhaps you should reconsider that plan after _you've_ had some rest, Gabriel."

The archangel just grinned wider and placed a kiss on his collarbone. "That is the first sensible thing you've said all day."

Warm and safe between his partners, Gadreel's Grace began to thaw at last, and he closed his eyes and let sleep overtake him.


End file.
